Arabella Holmes: Of Newfound Fathers and Lost Mothers
by Hetty1204
Summary: The story of how Sherlock meets his daughter Arabella Holmes and watches as she's sucked into a case that even he can't solve. Set after His Last Vow. Will include cases by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Hope you enjoy :)
1. Un Nuovo Capitolo Nel Libro Della Vita

He needed a case. Anything to distract his brain from the mind-numbing boredom of reality. It had been three days since the last one. A triple homicide, carried out by the owner of a restaurant down the street.

"Bored!," He called out in his deep, baritone voice. No one answered. That wasn't right, John had been here a couple of minutes ago. He called out again, "Bored!" No reply. Confused he sat up. He looked at the watch on his wrist.

_15:35_

God was that the time? He'd been sat there for over four hours. He sighed and fell back down on the couch. John would most likely have taken his gun with him (wherever he went) so he couldn't even shoot the walls. He thought about experimenting on the fingers he had in the fridge but decided against it. John would be returning soon (he hoped) and wouldn't be happy with him.

It had been two months since Moriarty had pulled his publicity stunt and so far he hadn't done anything else. That worried Sherlock because he didn't know what trick he was going to pull next. And if there was one thing he didn't like, it was not knowing.

After lying on the couch for two hours Sherlock decided John wasn't coming back and so, he decided to take matters into his own hands. He stood up and walked into the kitchen where he'd left his mobile. He scrolled through his contacts until he found the one he was looking for. He sent a quick text then went back over to the couch and crashed down on it.

All he had to do now was wait. He didn't like waiting but in this case he didn't have a choice.

After half an hour Sherlock heard the sound of footsteps rushing up the stairs. He smirked to himself. John crashed through the door, his gun pointed, as he looked around wildly for any sign of danger.

"I text you saying I was dying and you took half an hour to get here? Really John I'm hurt."

John growled in frustration as he ran a hand over his face.

"Sherlock I was busy."

The man in question looked over at him before turning back to facing the ceiling.

"No you weren't."

"Yes I bloody well was! Bella kept Mary up all night so I promised I'd look after her today!"

Sherlock sighed again.

"Ah the joys of domestic bliss."

John glared at his best friend. He clenched both his fists then let out a deep breath.

"I need to call Mary and tell her you were just being an ass."

Sherlock shrugged his shoulders. John hesitated before letting out an unbelieving laugh.

"Really Sherlock, one of these days I'm not gonna be here for you to call when you're bored."

He looked pointedly at the man lying on the couch waiting for a reply. When he didn't get one he pulled out his phone and walked to the kitchen. Sherlock watched disinterestedly as John spoke to his wife. When John was finished Sherlock prepared himself for the yelling.

After a couple of minutes he looked over to see John shooting him a murderous glare. Sherlock's eyes widened a fraction. He'd only ever seen John this angry once before when he was shouting at him in the hospital. He opened his mouth to try and quell John's fury but closed it again when he heard quiet footsteps making their way up to the flat.

He narrowed his eyes. The footsteps were too light to be a man's so that ruled out Lestrade, Mycroft and quite a few others. They were also too soft to be a woman's. So, a young girl then. He sat up. Maybe this was a case. He glanced over at John and found him to be staring at the door as well. He smirked at him. So much for being busy.

They watched with anticipation as the door slowly creaked open. Sherlock stood up, still clad in his dressing gown and pyjama's, and watched as a child stepped through, carrying two suitcases.

He sweeped his eyes over the girl filing away anything he deemed interesting to his mind palace. She looked to be no more than fifteen and had short, ebony coloured curls that framed her tan face. She had a black trench coat on, similar to his own but more feminine. She was wearing a short black skirt and black tights. She also had on a pair of black, tight fitting gloves and a pair of black converse. As she faced him her pale green eyes pierced into his own and his breath caught in his throat. He knew those eyes but where had he seen them before?

The girls soft pink lips twitched into a smirk as she placed two heavy bags down on the floor. She spun slowly around the room, soaking up every detail she could find before nodding to herself. She turned back to the two men in the room and, after a moments pause, she opened her mouth to speak.

"Sherlock Holmes and John Watson I presume?"

Her voice cut across the silence of the room and brought Sherlock out of his reverie. He noted her accent was Scottish. Most likely from somewhere near Glasgow if the harsh tones were anything to go by. So foreign heritage but was born and raised in Scotland.

He blinked again as she raised an eyebrow at him.

"Yes you are correct. I am Sherlock Holmes and-"

"-This is your friend and colleague Doctor John Hamish Watson."

Sherlock wrinkled his nose at being interrupted. Who did she think she was? Bursting into their flat unannounced and then- Wait. Did she say?

"I'm sorry but how do you know my middle name?"

Ah. Good old Watson. Always quick to pick up on things.

"It was a simple deduction and you shouldn't be so ashamed of it. I've met many a man with the name."

John's eyes widened a fraction.

"Wait, hold on. Are you one of these fan girls Sherlock has?"

The girl glared slightly at him before pointing her nose in the air.

"No I am not although I am fascinated by how completely ignorant he's being."

John attempted to hide his laughter by turning it into a cough. The girls mouth twitched slightly as she saw Sherlock's eyes trained on her.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Oh you heard me Mr Holmes and I do so hate repeating myself."

She tugged off her gloves and placed them in her coat pocket. She held out a hand to Sherlock and introduced herself.

"Arabella Mariella Daniela Raffaella Holmes. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

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**Ahhh! I'm such a bad person! I keep posting new stories before updating my other ones. I am so so so so sorry! I just can't seem to get any inspiration for them. Don't worry though I will update just not as quick as you'd like. Anyways this just sort of came to me one day and, unlike my other stories, I do actually have a plan for it! Thank you all for favouriting and following me and my stories. I love you all! **

**Hetty1204 x**


	2. Perché io sono qui

Sherlock stood stunned for a moment before reaching out to take Arabella's hand. She shook it firmly, he noted. John stood there, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

"Oh Doctor Watson. If you're going to be any help at all on this case you'd better get used to surprises. Oh and to answer your question yes I am his daughter."

John shut his mouth and looked over at Sherlock. He made a gesture to Arabella with his head as if to say '_explain_'. Sherlock looked at the child. He cocked his head to the side slightly, to study her. She rolled her eyes and walked past him to his laptop which was sat on the desk. He watched with interest as she hacked it in under thirty seconds.

"Sherlock. I think we need to talk."

Sherlock looked at him confused. What did they have to talk about? John rolled his eyes before grabbing his arm and leading him into the kitchen. He turned to face him.

"You have a daughter."

"Yes I thought that was quite clear."

"No. _You_ have a daughter. How is that even possible?!"

"Well we don't know for sure whet-"

"-Are you insane?! Of course she's your daughter! She looks and acts just like you for Christ's sake!"

Sherlock regarded him for a moment before turning to look at the girl currently occupying his desk. He turned back to John.

"What do I do?" Sherlock whispered it so quietly John thought he'd misheard him. He wanted to hug him and never let him go at how vulnerable he sounded. But he didn't.

"You man up. You have a daughter now."

Sherlock looked at him before looking at Arabella again. What was he meant to do? He felt a hand on his back push him forward. He shuffled out of the kitchen and into the living room. Arabella looked up at him.

"You've got questions. Understandably."

Sherlock opened his mouth to speak but she held up a hand to silence him. She sighed and ran a hand over her face.

"I wish we were meeting under better circumstances but alas t'was not meant to be," she looked him dead in the eye, "I'm here because of one man and one man only. James Moriarty."

Sherlock immediately tensed up. What was th- his child doing with Moriarty?

"I'm sorry?"

The girl threw her hands up in frustration.

"Don't be so stupid! Can't you see what he's doing! He's staging a comeback but he's being smart. You, _you_ were obvious about it. Cases that were deemed unsolvable by the 'best'," she made quotation marks with her fingers when she said best, "were suddenly solved. You made your way back here but Moriarty...he's being clever about it. Subtle. Fortunately for you I've been monitoring."

She smiled and tapped a pocket on her coat where Sherlock deduced a mobile of some sorts was kept.

"Wait are you implying that you're a genius, like Sher- like your dad?"

John crossed his arms over his chest and raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

"I'm not _implying_ anything," she spoke through gritted teeth, "I'm merely stating facts. When I first came in I deduced your middle name, something my _father_," she lazily drawled out the word father, "couldn't figure out himself."

John looked at Sherlock and then back at Arabella.

"I must be going crazy. I have got to be having some sort of mid-life crisis. Sherlock please tell me there isn't two of you."

"There isn't two of me. Now you said you'd been _monitoring_," Sherlock focused his attention on the girl, "expand."

"Well like I said he's being subtle about it. His movements are almost undetectable unless, like me, you've had too much time on your hands with nothing better to do than watch a spider slowly build its web."

She turned back towards the computer and brought up a page showing a wanted man with the word terminated written in red over his picture. She brought up seven more pages detailing men and women, all of whom had been terminated.

"Eight hit men and women taken out by governments around the world. End of story right?"

"Right." John answered.

"Wrong. These highly trained assassins have all been sighted in various points across the globe with no reason to be in the places they were in. They all checked into hotels and left the next day. They've been moving. Slowly at first but they're all going to the same place."

"The centre of the web." Sherlock whispered.

Arabella hummed in agreement.

"Exactly. You've been slow Sherlock Holmes, hopefully it doesn't cost you dearly. Who knows what this man is up to."

"Wait but how do you know it's Moriarty?" John asked, his brow furrowed.

"We don't. That's what I meant when I said subtle because this," she gestured to the computer, "is either him...or a bigger threat."

Her words lingered in the air as the detective and his blogger took in what she'd just said. The trill sound of John's phone broke the silence of the room and he excused himself to the kitchen.

The Holmes' looked at each other, both of them coming to a mutual decision. Trust now and don't get killed later. Arabella broke their silent stare off when John walked back into the room.

"That was Mary. Sherlock I've got to go. Will you be alright with..." He trailed off at the end as he looked at Arabella. Sherlock tore his gaze from her and looked at John. He waved at hand at him to say '_go_'. John rolled his eyes and, with a quick nod to Arabella, he took his leave.

"Will you be staying long?"

"As long as I'm needed."

"Who said you were _needed_ in the first place." Sherlock spat the words out and Arabella, had she been a normal teenager, would have winced at the venom in his voice. She, however, just smirked at him and just as she was about to open her mouth-

THUMP!

Both Holmes' quickly turned their attention to the fallen woman at the door who'd obviously tripped over Arabella's bags.

"Sherlock what the bloody hell do you think you're doing! Leaving bags at the- Ooh." the injured woman stopped short when she saw the ebony haired child standing over her, a hand held out to help her up. She took it gratefully and stood up, brushing herself off.

"My apologies Mrs...?"

"Hudson dearie, Mrs Hudson."

"My apologies Mrs Hudson. Those were my bags, I should have moved them out of the way to prevent an injury."

Mrs Hudson looked over at Sherlock who just shrugged his shoulders and went over to the couch to lie down.

"I'm sorry pet but who are you?"

"Arabella Holmes," she held out a hand to the kind woman who took it and shook it gently, "I'm Sherlock's daughter."

Mrs Hudson's eyebrows shot up at this and her mouth opened in shock. She looked back over at Sherlock who was now blatantly ignoring them.

"Sherlock? Is this true?"

"What do you think Mrs Hudson? John's already pointed out that she shares a similar appearance and a few personality traits to myself." He replied snidely.

The flustered woman looked at the child then back at the man on the couch.

"Well I do see a family resemblance. The hair definitely and she has your eyes. Oh but Sherlock why didn't you tell me you had a daughter?!"

"Because, Mrs Hudson, I only found out today."

"Well where is she going to stay?" She whispered trying to be discreet.

"Here obviously. She can take John's old room."

The woman looked surprised at this.

"Are you sure?," Sherlock didn't answer her, "well alright then," she turned back towards Arabella,"you can take your stuff upstairs and sleep in the bedroom up there. Will that be alright?"

"That will be perfectly fine Mrs Hudson," she replied laying the charm on thick, "I'm sure Sherlock will help me with my bags."

Sherlock turned to glare at her.

"Sherlock! Don't look at your daughter like that! A strapping young man like you should have no problem taking those bags upstairs. Now if you'll excuse me dearie I must get back downstairs, I left a cake in the oven."

"Thank you Mrs Hudson."

Arabella flashed her a dazzling smile which vanished as soon as the woman was out of sight. She faced Sherlock and arched an eyebrow at him as she gestured to her bags. He looked at her before turning over on the couch. She smirked to herself. Well this was going to be fun.

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**Hope this chapter was alright. Please review!**

**Hetty1204 x**


	3. Capitolo Riempitivo

Two hours, sixteen minutes and thirty two seconds. That's how long he'd been keeping her up with that bloody violin of his! She, unlike her father, needed sleep and so far she'd only gotten four hours. She couldn't take it anymore. She swung her legs out of bed, pulled on her mother's old cardigan, shoved her feet into her sleeping boots and flung open her door. She stormed downstairs making sure she didn't step on the third, fifth and seventh step as they squeaked and would alert Sherlock of her presence.

She banged loudly on the door before swinging it open and almost pulling it off its hinges. Not surprisingly the music coming from the violin didn't stop. Determined not to be outdone on her first night with the consulting detective she made her way over to the skull on the mantelpiece. She pushed the window open and held it out.

Almost instantly the music stopped and she watched as Sherlock slowly dropped his hands to his sides. He narrowed his eyes at her in an attempt to intimidate her. Pff good luck with that.

"Put the violin down."

"Put my skull down."

"You first."

"Oh I'd rather you went first."

"Ah but father dearest it's age before beauty."

Sherlock glared at her. He would not be beaten by his own daughter.

"Ladies first."

"Pearls before diamonds."

His jaw tightened as he searched his mind palace for something to retort with.

"Dirt before the broom."

"Roots before the roses."

Arabella smirked as Sherlock placed his violin on the desk in defeat.

"Now you. Close the window and put my skull down."

She closed the window then turned to Sherlock. He raised an eyebrow at her. She flashed him a bright smile before shoving the skull down her pyjama top, grabbing his violin and flouncing out of the room.

Sherlock watched her go and he smirked to himself. Maybe she wouldn't be so bad to have around after all. He held a hand over his mouth as he yawned. He looked over at the clock and sighed before retreating to his own bedroom. He needed to investigate this girl to find out more about his past. He couldn't remember who her mother was. He must have deemed her unimportant and deleted her from jus mind palace. Oh well he'd find out in the morning.

Arabella sat smiling to herself as she lay in bed. Maybe living with Sherlock would be good for her. She could definitely learn more from him. Her deductive skills were amateur at best and she'd never really gone to school so her knowledge of the world was somewhat lacking.

She rolled over and looked at the skull sitting on top of one of her suitcases. Yup living with Sherlock Holmes was sure to be an interesting ride but boy was she willing to see it through.

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**Thanks to Just Kloe Please and Peaceful Death for favouriting/following! It means a lot :)**

**Sorry this chapter's so short. It's sort of a filler just to let you guys see Sherlock and Arabella bond a little bit.**

**Mycroft will be in the next chapter so stick around and read on! Please review :)**

**Hetty1204 x**


	4. La Vita Che Conduciamo

As she made her way down the stairs for the second time that day Arabella felt something was off. She crept silently towards the door and opened it carefully. As it swung open she caught a glimpse of an umbrella and she groaned internally. She could not deal with this man right now.

With all the strength she could muster she glided into the room and stood in front of the man currently occupying Sherlock's chair. Her eyes flicked over him as she deduced every new fact she could. Once she was satisfied she'd collected everything she sat in John's chair, facing opposite him.

"Miss Arabella Holmes. It's a pleasure to see you again." He smiled smugly at her.

She glowered at him. The last time they'd met she'd been in custody after managing to hack the government's database a couple of times. She'd been thirteen then. Oh how the time flies.

"You've gained weight. Diet not treating you well?" She flashed him a sugary smile which developed into a grin as his eyes narrowed.

They sat for five minutes in silence, both parties' pride preventing them from backing down. It was short lived however as Sherlock had woken up and was determined to make sure everybody knew it. He flounced into the room, his dressing gown swishing behind him.

"Ah Mycroft what brings you here? Let me guess, another case the imbeciles you surround yourself with can't solve?"

Mycroft sighed.

"Not everything I do involves you little brother. I'm actually here to deliver something to your daughter, Arabella."

Arabella having grown bored of the conversation instantly perked up at the sound of her name. She watched as Mycroft took a manila folder from the briefcase perched on his lap. He held it out to her and she took it tentatively. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Sherlock staring at it. Feeling her privacy was being compromised she placed the folder behind her back and made a reminder to look at it later.

Mycroft raised his eyebrows at her actions but didn't comment.

"Well I think I'd best be off." He smiled slightly at her as he stood up.

"Yes, you should." Sherlock watched as his brother's smile became strained.

Arabella viewed this exchange with interest. Sibling rivalry. Fascinating. Mycroft nodded at her before making his way out the door. Sherlock walked over and shut it behind him. She wasn't sure but she swore she heard him mutter, "Good riddance."

He turned and fixed his gaze on the folder resting behind her back. She scoffed before taking the folder back up to her room. He watched her go with mild annoyance. He was going to have to teach her some respect. He made a mental note to do just that whenever he could be bothered. In the meantime however there was a particularly nasty double homicide that needed looking at.

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She shut the door and rushed over to the bed. She jumped down onto it and looked at the folder in her hands. What could possibly be inside? Information on the assassins? Information on her? Well, there was only one way to find out. She rummaged around one of her bags until she found what she was looking for. A small penknife she'd taken from the orphanage. She took it and cut a slit in the top of the folder.

She carefully eased out the wad of paper resting inside and lay it down on her bed. She scanned the documents, her eyes drinking up everything they could. She barely registered what it was she was reading until she had finished. She looked back through it in her mind slowly and stopped when she realised what this was. Tears pricked at her eyes and she clenched her fists so hard her knuckles turned white.

It was her mother's will. Tears flowed freely down her face as she pictured her mother's sweet face and smelt her perfumed scent. It had been ten years since her mother had passed but she still remembered every little detail about her.

The way the light caught her blonde hair in the sun making it look like a golden halo. The way she could light up a room just by smiling. The way her laugh sounded like the sweetest melody. She missed her mother so much. The pain had subsided slightly over time but what she felt now was raw. She felt like she was five years old again, standing in front of her mothers grave.

She let out a heart-wrenching sob and pulled her knees to her chest. She rested her head on top and cried.

She didn't know how long she sat there for, letting her heart spill out of her, but she remembered what she did afterwards. She could feel every new scar forming and every old one resurfacing. She wasn't proud of what she'd done to herself, wasn't proud of how broken she looked. And so she made a silent vow to herself as she sat in the dark, loneliness of the small room.

She vowed to never let anyone in so she could never be hurt again. So only she could be the one who got through her walls. She shut herself off completely in that room and became the machine she'd always feared.

In that room, in that moment she earned her title of high-functioning sociopath. And she wasn't happy about it.

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**Ok I am soo sorry I haven't updated in ages. I've just been so busy with school and exams and I've had serious writers block for a while. But, hopefully this chapter kick starts me into writing more and gets my brain in the zone. Plus, it's the holidays here in sunny Scotland :) which means I'll have a lot more time on my hands to write chapters for all you lovely people! **

**Thanks to 2DamnFunky, Deleted Word Document, Pheobe Arocis, carriemarie78, crumpdoreen, rodeogirl2393 and almp15 for fave/following! **

**Again so sorry for the massive wait for this chapter.**

**Hetty1204 x**


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